Fiction: Chance Encounter

Article by R. K. Wigal

The young cavalry officer watched as his men, many with tears in their eyes, stacked their arms in front of Wilmer McLean's home at Appomattox, Virginia. He was not alone in the immense sadness he felt at the loss suffered that day by General Lee's great army. Yet, at the same time, he was most grateful to General Grant's troops for providing rations for his starving men and for himself. And when the mustachioed Union general, astride his great horse, saluted most honorably the defeated confederate soldiers who were there, Captain Chance Munro, his dignity intact, snapped to attention and proudly returned General Chamberlain's salute. The War Between the States had come to an end.

* * *

"Where will you go, Captain Munro," the boarding house matron asked as she watched him throw his saddle bags over his right shoulder.

"California, ma'am. I'll be workin' my way west with a wagon train. Maybe I can strike it rich when I get there." He hoiseted his saddlebags onto his apaloosa, climbed onto Shiloh's back, tipped his hat to Mrs. Guthrie, bade her goodbye and began a journey he would not soon forget.

* * *

His trek acrosss the southern American expanse was slow, steady and, for the most part, uneventful. On one hot day in late August, however, Munro spotted a small band of Indians shadowing his group from atop a ridge to their right as they negotiated a shallow canyon. Indian culture fascinated him. But he knew that the Indian and the white man were ever at odds with one another, so he alerted the wagon master and kept a wary eyen on them. The Indians, riding at a leisurely pace, kept pace with the wagons foor several hours but, as it turned out, that was merely by happenstance. As the last of the wagons were clearinbg the canyon, the Indians turned north and rode on.

Once in California, the wagon train was nearing a desert settlement called Barstow. The hills off to his right caught Chance's eye and his interest. He arranged to leave the wagon train and was given water, provisions and coin as payment for his services. He fitted Shiloh with a litter onto which he loaded his supplies and set out for those hills. When he found a spot he liked at the base of one of the hills, he set up camp, erected a lean-to and bedded down for the night.

Up before daybreak, Chance Munro built a small fire and put on a pot of coffee. Breakfast consisted of a strip of beef jerky and a single hard tack biscuit washed down with a "not too bad" cup of coffee. He ate unhurriedly but was soon finished. Now done, it was time to explore.

The black of night had turned to blue indigo, just enough light to see by. He began climbing a south facing hill, picking up and examing rocks as he went. He couldn't believe his eyes. The dark opaque coloring was unmistakable. The rocks he found contained high grade silver ore. His heart now racing, he continued exploring. He ventured over the hill and down the other side. He nearly tripped over the seemingly lifeless form before he saw it: a man, unconscious, lying on his back, badly burned by the previous day's sun, leg broken, feverish and delerious.

Munro went immediately to his camp site, affixed the litter to Shiloh's back and returned. He secured the man onto the litter, brought him back to his camp site, and placed him under the lean-to, sheltered from the rising desert sun. Chance then set the man's leg and splinted it. He applied moisture to the man's forehead, chest and lips. The man's clothing, he noticed, was foreign to him and the language he spoke in his delerium was stranger still. He remained at the man's side throughout the day and well into the night, applying moisture now and then, dozing only briefly once or twice.

The man awoke to the fresh light of day and began stirring. "Lie still! Don't try to get up! You're leg's broken. Here." He offered the man water. "I'm chance Munro."

"How long have I been like this," the man asked.

"I found you yesterday morning. Judging by your sunburn, you must have fallen some time the day before. Any longer and the desert heat would have killed you."

"Well, I thank you for coming to my aid." The man took a sip. "I am deeply in your debt. I am called Brack."

"Where did you come from? You don't have a horse. And your accent..."

The man laughed slightly. "It's hard to explain. If you'll help me up, I'll show you."

Directed through a narrow rock-walled passage to a tiny secluded box canyon, Munro, carrying Brack piggyback, then beheld a most breathtaking sight: a circular, silvery metallic object some thirty feet across. "What on Earth is that!?"

"Help me inside, then Bring your horse and join me. You'll see."

Inside, Chance helped Brack into an elevated console chair and then he secured Shiloh in a small compartment. Brack then began manipulating some controls. Pointing to a transparent view port, Brack said, "Stand there and watch. Chance did so, and as the space craft began accelerating upward, Chance Munro could find no words to utter whatsoever as he watched the Earth recede before his eyes.

To be continued…